Shake It Out
by WorldOfTilt
Summary: She has, essentially, spent her whole life making your pain go away. Except during those ten years, which neither of you ever really talk about. She has been taking your pain away and sending it to an undisclosed location only she knows the address of. Originally posted on livejournal.


A/N: Hi! This is very loosely based in my Midnight Snack universe. It's a little different than my usual fluff, but I thought Santana's thoughts about Brittany coming back deserved their own one-shot. Enjoy!

You keep reading even though Max has long since fallen asleep. You usually balk when he asks to hear another Thomas the Tank Engine story, but you were feeling especially nostalgic tonight and managed to find one you hadn't read before. You continue reading the book, not out loud anymore, but softly whispering to yourself. You figure Percy will make it over the dangerous old bridge, but you would like the closure of seeing it for yourself. You've also learned that little kids retain everything around them and you don't want to risk Max asking you if Percy made it over the bridge in the morning only to be stuck with no answer, or worse, a lie. You are satisfied with the conclusion of the book. Percy, naturally, makes it over the bridge using nothing but his pure determination and inner strength. You take a moment to think about the last time you really used determination and inner strength to complete a hard task, but nothing comes to mind. You sigh, placing the book on Max's nightstand, leaning in for a quick kiss to his forehead.

You are interrupted by a soft "aww" coming from his doorway. From this angle, the dark room and the hall light illuminating her from behind, she looks like an angel. You laugh at yourself for how cliché you sound, but really, she looks like an angel. The halo forming around her slightly tousled blond hair isn't helping.

"How long have you been standing there?" You ask smoothing down Max's blanket and making your way over to her.

"Long enough to know Max only made it as far as the first train station before falling asleep," Brittany giggles at you, leaning her head down slightly to give you a similar kiss to the one you just placed on Max's forehead.

You are both tired, but it's early enough that if you went to sleep now you'd both be up well before you need to be. You retire to the living room and Brittany curls up in the reading chair by the window with whatever new book she took out of the library that day. You sit stiffly on the couch. You've been feeling uneasy lately but unable to put a finger on the cause. Nothing has really changed in your life. Recently at least. Brittany and Max have been with you for two years now, he's almost three. He's perfect. Brittany is perfect. Your life is perfect. Yet, there is something that has been keeping you awake at night.

"Why are you just sitting there, San?" Brittany asks when she glances up between chapters.

You didn't realize ten minutes had passed since you sat down. You are still in the same position; sitting awkwardly at a perfect ninety degree angle. You lean forward to grab the TV remote, which is just an inch or two out of reach from your position even while craning as far forward as you can. You sigh in defeat and lean all the way back instead. You close your eyes, silently willing Brittany to put her book down and come sit next to you. Maybe rub your back or pepper your face with soft kisses. You would really like that.

You're not sure how long it takes until Brittany either telepathically gets the hint or just wants to see what's wrong. You hear her put the book down on the windowsill, you know she got up but you don't hear her walk over. She's so graceful. She floats over to you. You picture her floating over the living room, a small smile pays upon your lips thinking about her levitating over, possibly stopping to twirl midway. Brittany would do that, you think. Your smile gets bigger. You feel the slightest pressure on the cushion next to you, signaling she has arrived. You don't turn your head or open your eyes. You do, however, take an extra deep breath hoping to catch a whiff of her scent. The smell reminds you of her. You think about what an odd thing it is, that the smell of the person right next to you reminds you of them. You've always thought about memories as an action from the past. But here you are having a present memory, if there is such a name for it. You conclude in your head that it doesn't really matter as long as you get to keep smelling her.

"You've been acting a little strange lately. Is everything ok?" Brittany asks while smoothing some hair off your face. Her hand continues down your cheek and you finally move your head into her touch. You smell the palm of her hand and note the warmth of her touch against your skin.

"I know it's early but can we go to bed?" You ask, a sudden lump forming in your throat you can't explain.

"Sure, come on," Brittany says immediately getting up, taking you with her before you can register that your body is moving. She actually picks you up, carrying you in her arms to the bedroom. Part of you is embarrassed to be carried like a baby, as if you can't walk under your own volition. A larger part, relishes in the comfort. You tuck your head into your chest and pull your legs up, making yourself as small as possible in her arms. You worry for a second that she is straining to carry you, but you listen intently and hear no signs of breathlessness or struggle.

The way you are positioned in her arms reminds you of when you were seven and broke your wrist playing basketball with your older brother and one of his friends. It was a rare day that you weren't spending with Brittany. She was with her family a few towns over for her cousin's birthday party. As soon as you fell down, a small, strong pair of arms immediately scooped you up. You looked up through already pooling tears. "Brittany, how'd you get here?" you sniffed while she carried you inside, calling for your mother who was out back in the garden. Later, on the way home from the hospital you asked her how she was able to get to you so fast, she was supposed to be away. "I came home early and was watching you play from behind the neighbor's fence." She answered, as if there was no other explanation. You are jolted back into the present by Brittany placing you down on the bed.

"I am going to cry." You state matter-of-factly.

"Well, that's ok," Brittany steps back to get a good look at your face, "but why?" she asks nervously.

"I have no idea." The tears start slowly at first, as if they are also unsure as to the reasoning behind their actions. The worst part is that softball sized lump that is still in your throat. It hurts and you wonder if there is some sort of evolutionary reason for the lump to happen. You can't think of a reasonable explanation so you just continue crying while Brittany rubs your back and places repetitive kisses above your left eyebrow. Your hands, balled into fists, have taken refuge under Brittany's shirt, pushing against her hard abdomen. It seems like hours before you are able to calm down enough to realize you are lying down and have a cold compress on your head. You wonder if you passed out or fell asleep and if it really matters one way or the other. Brittany is still up, still rubbing your back. You sit up slowly; you don't want to startle her.

"I think," you take a deep breath and play with the old friendship bracelet you've started wearing again, "I think, I'm afraid that everything is going too well."

Brittany looks at you with that crease between her eyes that says she doesn't really understand what you are saying, but she's trying really hard to figure it out. You smooth out the crease with the pad of your thumb and lean over to kiss the tip of her nose.

"I just mean that everything is going so well and I'm just not used to that happening and I am just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because most of the time, the whole shoe store comes crashing down on me." You feel a little lighter after getting that off your chest, your head still feels cloudy from all the crying but you'll take some aspirin in a little bit and that should help.

Brittany hasn't said anything in response to your admission so you move to get up and take that aspirin earlier than planned. She silently pushes you back down, while she gets up and walks into the bathroom. You worry for a second that you've upset her and she's gone to think, but she comes right back with two aspirin and her duck covered bathroom cup filled halfway with water. You know enough at this point to not ask how in the world she knew you needed that, so you just obey and open your mouth as she slides the two pills onto your tongue. She even manages to place the cup at an angle where it doesn't dribble down your chin, like it does when you try to drink in an awkward position. You've been doing a lot of wondering tonight, but you take another moment to wonder if she really is an actual, true to life, angel. You once again conclude that it doesn't really matter as long as she's your angel.

"Thank you, Britt. Did I upset you? You know I didn't mean to do that. I just don't really know how to deal with all this stuff, all these feelings." You sit up, shuffling back so you are sitting against the headboard. She climbs over you and rests her head on your shoulder.

"No, I'm not upset. I just don't understand what you are feeling. I don't feel things like that. So, I don't know what to do to help you." You can feel her shrug against you and your heart grows another size with her innocence. You start to feel another lump in your throat, but this time you know the origin.

You love her so much, sometimes it makes you cry. Sometimes it hurts how much you love her. Like the feeling is so overpowering, so all encompassing that your small frame can't actually house it all. It's like you are always missing her, even when she's practically lying on top of you. You think back to a few hours before when her smell reminded you of her. How can you miss someone who's right here? You decide "miss" is the wrong emotion, there isn't a word for the feeling you have for her. It's categorically indescribable.

"I won't let the other shoe drop. I really won't," she leans over, burying her nose under your ear. The action sends a shiver down your spine and you can feel her smirk against your shoulder.

"I know you won't. But, my whole life it always has, what if it's me. My other shoe always drops and even you can't stop it?" You feel bad doubting her, but you can't help it. You've spent your whole life never reaching that pinnacle, that moment when you can stop looking over your shoulder. You want to put all your faith in her, she's saved you more times then you can even remember, but you're afraid you'll always have that ghost following you no matter what.

"Well, you know I'll try my hardest, right? And Maxy will also," she sits up, she knows it's serious and you can tell she feels bad she can't just make your hurt go away the second it starts.

She has, essentially, spent her whole life making your pain go away. Except during those ten years, which neither of you ever really talk about. She has been taking your pain away and sending it to an undisclosed location only she knows the address of.

"I know it's hard, always waiting for that other shoe to drop, but doesn't it help knowing that I'll always be there to catch it before it hits the ground?" Brittany asks, her sky blue eyes wide open in anticipation of your response.

You feel the rest of that weight rising off your chest and know that once again she has made your pain go away. You figure you can live with the momentary pain every once in awhile as long as she's always there to make it go away again.

"Yeah, it does." You take a deep breath and watch her face relax. You glance at the clock on her side of the bed, sighing that you'll only have a few hours to sleep before Max wakes up.

"Don't worry, you can sleep in. I'll take Max to see that new cartoon dog movie after breakfast so you can relax," she says while pulling the covers over you both. You stare at her, right before she flicks off the light, wondering if angels are telepathic


End file.
